Rita Hayworth

  • Pal Joey (1957)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) If you’re going to make a 1950s film about a cad of a crooner, there were no better choices than Frank Sinatra at a moment where he was ascending as the Rat Pack’s “chairman of the board.”  Even in toning down the material from the original Broadway show (where, in an uncanny parallel, the character was played by Gene Kelly), Pal Joey has him gallivanting as an incorrigible womanizer, forced to a nomadic existence because of his issues with women. The cycle begins again when he lands in San Francisco and finds himself in another singing spot… unless he can’t help himself. While Pal Joey doesn’t quite measure up to the great musicals of the decade, it’s not a bad watch by itself—largely due to the charismatic nature of Sinatra’s performance, as well as the presences of Rita Hayworth and Kim Novak in supporting roles. A few of the songs are fun or well known — “Zip” is about as burlesque as they could get away in an all-family musical, while “The Lady is a Tramp” is another take on a classic. (I still like Lena Horne’s version better.) The cad-learns-better story is familiar but handled in a way that suits what Sinatra can bring to the role, and the technical aspects of the film are not bad for a non-MGM musical—although the film deals with its dance choreography in close-up fashion rather than going for a wide multi-dancer approach. It also remains a Broadway musical in conception, limiting what movie-magic could be done with the structure and plotting. Pay Joey was an undeniable success for Sinatra (who paid for a house on the film’s proceeds and opened a restaurant of the same name) and still all wraps up into something worth a look, even if it’s probably not all that memorable as some of its musical contemporaries.

  • Blood and Sand (1941)

    Blood and Sand (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) There is a melodramatic intensity to Blood and Sand that makes it as ridiculous as it’s hard to resist. It’s a drama that boldly heads to Spain to tell us about the dramatic life of a matador as he outdoes his dead father’s accomplishments, encounters initial success, and is then seduced and destroyed by the trappings of fame and power. There isn’t much in terms of ethnically authentic casting, but Tyrone Power does well in the lead role, with female co-leads going to the wholesome wife played by Linda Darnell and the seductive vamp given life by Rita Hayworth. It’s all very colourful in that early-Technicolor garishness, archly presented in a way that leaves no room for subtlety. There’s bullfighting, singing, dancing and high tragedy in the Greek sense of the term, with the hero defeated by his success. If Blood and Sand is often too unsubtle to be taken all that seriously, there’s some narrative rhythm to the story that backs up its vivid presentation, and the result is not quite as dull as you’d expect.

  • Cover Girl (1944)

    Cover Girl (1944)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) Just as I thought I had seen all of Gene Kelly’s better musicals, here is Cover Girl to reassure me that I’d missed at least one. A good musical by most standards, Cover Girl was singled out by at least one film historian as the first in an illustrious series of musicals in which the plot was advanced during the songs, and the first collaboration between Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen. It’s also one of Kelly’s first efforts at choreographing his own dance numbers, and a film that hones in the typical self-aware style of Classic Hollywood musicals with wit and humour. Rita Hayworth shares the screen with Kelly, a pairing that works surprisingly well. The dance numbers are varied and well-executed, with a decent amount of visual innovation throughout the film. Surprisingly enough, it’s not an MGM musical — Kelly was loaned to Columbia (for their first colour musical) on the promise that he’d be able to stage the film’s numbers, but MGM definitely took notes when the film was a box-office success. Latter MGM/Freed films would come much closer to the example set by Cover Girl, and the result was an extraordinary string of timeless musicals. As for Cover Girl itself, it’s good — not great, but interesting enough in its own right that it’ll charm musical fans. Oh, and there are plenty of cover girls to gawk at, so the title is not misleading advertising.

  • You Were Never Lovelier (1942)

    You Were Never Lovelier (1942)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) As far as Fred Astaire movies go, You Were Never Lovelier is roughly in the unremarkable middle. The humdrum plot sees Astaire as an American expatriate in Rio de Janeiro being pressured into courting a businessman’s daughter. It’s not bad, but its origin in an earlier Spanish-language film does seem to limit its nature: rather than something custom-made for Astaire’s strengths, we have something that approximates other better Astaire films without quite giving him something particularly distinctive to do. Many (most?) of the dance sequences appear to be in the same ballroom, for instance—it’s a nice set indeed, but it does contribute to the film’s featurelessness. Fortunately, one distinction is the gorgeous Rita Hayworth, holding her own as Astaire’s dance partner and looking substantially sexier than many of his other co-stars. Astaire dances like the movie legend he is, with the requisite solo number and the courtship duet. The Latin American location adds a little bit to the result. The love story, built on false pretences, is also very familiar (especially to modern audiences having overdosed on “seducing for profit, surprised by honest love” tropes)—although—and I realize how crazy it sounds—there may be a bit too much plot to support it. Still, You Were Never Lovelier is fun viewing: its unremarkable nature is only true if you’re used to Astaire’s dancing, which remains astonishing on its own terms.

  • Separate Tables (1958)

    Separate Tables (1958)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2019) It’s interesting how various genres of film age well (or not) due to different factors. Something often underestimated is thespian intensity, especially in those movies designed to be actor showcases. Separate Tables starts from strong dramatic material, being adapted from a pair of short theatre plays. This is most clearly seen in the strong dramatic unity of the result, taking place over a few days in a secluded hotel where two pairs of guests have largely separate subplots. On one side, a man (a typically intense Burt Lancaster) has to pick between his nice new girlfriend and his shrewish ex-wife (Rita Hayworth, glammed up to the point where she can be mistaken for Grace Kelly). The dialogue pyrotechnics here occasionally suggests Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolfe?, with a conclusion that may surprise you. On the other main subplot, an officer with a mystery past (David Niven, up to his high standards) beguiles a spinster (Deborah Kerr, strongly de-glammed) trying to get away from the influence of her mother. The addition of a bit of romantic comic relief between two young lovers helps ease into the film before the dramatic intensity starts. Under Delbert Mann’s direction, the film benefits from clean images, unobtrusive direction and full leeway for actors to deliver on the material. The result was nominated for nine Academy Awards (including Best Picture) and won two acting awards. Clearly, this showcase certainly worked, and it helps Separate Tables to be worth a look even today.

  • Gilda (1946)

    Gilda (1946)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2019) Even after watching film noir movies for years, I’m still not all that sure about an exact definition for the subgenre. But that’s not a problem—far smarter people than me have also thrown up their hands in surrender at trying to provide a specific formula for noir/not-noir. The best I can do it to follow the crowd and ask myself: does it feel like noir? It doesn’t necessarily have to have Private Investigators chasing down criminals in American metropolises—in Gilda for instance, we find ourselves in South America, largely within a casino/mansion where an American expatriate gets involved with the casino owner and his new wife—who turns out to be an old flame. Add in a few German criminals, crunchy narration, some smouldering musical performances, gambling, a faked death, beat downs and a strong romantic antagonism and you’ve got quite a noir stew going on. The spectacular love-hate dialogue between the film’s two main characters is particularly successful, complemented by very good cinematography, lush when it needs to (such as the carnival scene) and visually complex throughout. Rita Hayworth gets the femme fatale thing down, not so much by gunning down male characters but by playing the dark bombshell to the limit—we even get her singing “Put the Blame on Mame” twice—once with her voice, the other with her entire body. It helps that her character is fiery, strong and an equal partner to Glenn Ford, who does well in a budding hustler role. But this is Hayworth’s movie—she easily outshines even the evocative South American casino setting. Gilda may not check all of the boxes of the traditional film noir, but it does so well on those checked boxes that it leaves quite an impression.

  • Only Angels have Wings (1939)

    Only Angels have Wings (1939)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2019) There are a few Howard Hawks movies that I like better than Only Angels have Wings, but it does bring together a lot of what made Hawks such a compelling director. It’s a rip-roaring adventure featuring tough guys, as it focuses on a South American airmail company featuring intrepid pilots and dangerous planes. Cary Grant headlines the cast as the head pilot and manager of the small, almost bankrupt company. There’s some hope in the form of a new contract, but achieving it will mean death-defying mountain flying. As if that wasn’t enough, there’s romantic tension thanks to a newly arrived singer (Jean Arthur) and the protagonist’s ex-flame (Rita Hayworth). The mountain passes are treacherous and the planes are underpowered, but the mail must go through no matter how many special-effect crash sequences this means. Directed and partially written by Hawks, Only Angels have Wings clearly shows him working in his element, with a group of tough men and equally tough women working at the frontier of human ingenuity. The dialogue is smart, the pacing is fast, and there’s enough humour and romance to enliven what remains a manly adventure story. The special effects are surprisingly good and impressive for the time. The result is liable to fascinate early aviation fans, even despite the limited means of the time. Grant is his usual charismatic self, with good support from Arthur and a short but eye-catching role for Hayworth (in what is often considered her breakout film). An essential part of the Hawks filmography, Only Angels have Wings still has enough thrills and charm to be worth a look by twenty-first century audiences … like much of Hawk’s filmography.

  • The Lady from Shanghai (1947)

    The Lady from Shanghai (1947)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2018) Orson Welles does film noir in The Lady from Shanghai, a fairly standard thriller that becomes a great movie through great direction. Welles stars as an everyday man who meets your usual femme fatale, not quite grasping that he’s being framed for murder. Things go from New York City to San Francisco in a flash, and before long our protagonist is unjustly accused, dragged in court and forced to escape to prove his innocence (does that stuff ever works out in real life?)  The plot is familiar, but it’s Welles’ eye for the camera and caustic sense of humour that sets the film apart. There’s a climax of court during the trial sequence, during which the camera can’t seem to stop focusing on tiny inconsequential details rather than the (very familiar) argument being presented to the course, exactly as if the chatter was a foregone conclusion and not worth our attention anyway. The famous ending shootout takes places in a half-of-mirror, something that has been appropriated by at least two other movies already. It all amounts to a very stylish, very competent film noir in the purest tradition of the genre. Legend has it that Welles accepted to do the film because he needed money, and the final result was butchered by studio executives. Still, the film shows a clever craftsman at work: San Francisco looks great, Welles has one of his final “thin Welles” roles, and Rita Hayworth makes for a near-perfect femme fatale. The result, however, is definitely weird and has occasional shifts in tone that can catch viewers unaware—whether deliberately through Welles’ intentions or accidentally through studio interference, The Lady from Shanghai sometimes works best as vignettes rather than a sustained narrative. But it’s still worth seeing.